“What? You work at POM. Don’t you have a whole fleet of data analysts who could look at this?”
“We do. But we need more eyes on it.”
Only one reason for that. Time. Something was pushing him. I stared at Cy, then at the data pad in his hand, wheels turning in my head. He needed me. That meant I had leverage. Maybe not much, but enough to pry open a crack in Cy’s unshakable control.
I leaned back in the chair, feigning nonchalance. “So, you need me now. That’s cute.”
Cy’s expression didn’t change. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Oh, but I will. Did your boss give the order that you have to work with me now? That must sting, after the way I must have made you look so bad.”
I felt his Flux spike. Bingo. So Cy did answer to someone. A someone he obeyed like the good little corporate dog he was. Interesting.
Cy exhaled, stepping closer, his shadow stretching over me. “You think you have a choice?” His voice was low, all quiet menace. “You don’t. You’re here. You’re gonna help. That’s the end of it.”
I hummed. “I thought this was a deal? See, I don’t think your boss would be too happy if you broke his new toy before I even touched the data.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re not a toy.”
I lifted a brow. “Then stop treating me like one.”
For a second—just a second—something flickered across his face. Annoyance. Hesitation. Something deeper he didn’t want me to see. Then it was gone, buried under his usual steel.
“Boss wants this done,” Cy said flatly. “You’ll do it.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I will. But you’re gonna make it worth my while.”
“You don’t have any room to negotiate.”
“Sure I do. Because if you really thought I was disposable, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” I stretched, making a show of my restraints.
“That’s where you’re wrong, doll. You’re disposable, and so am I. People like us—we’re worthless to those who actually matter. Just a means to an end, a cog in the machine they drive. You’re not special. Neither am I.”
“You think your machismo impresses me, corpo? I grew up an outlander. I’ve dealt with that shit my entire life.”
At that, he blinked. “You don’t look like an outlander.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Let me just…” I cursed him out in a string of fluid Spanish, and his eyes went wide.
Then he laughed. “Wow. You really are full of surprises, aren’t you, doll?”
“I swear to God, call me ‘doll’ one more fucking time, Cy—”
“And what, Eon?” In an instant, his hand was on my face again. He ran his thumb along my bottom lip, tugging it ever so slightly. “We may be worthless to them, but there is something here, isn’t there?”
“In your dreams.”
He was still close—so close I saw the tiny traces of power in his dark eyes.
“Oh, Eon,” he murmured, and I hated the way my name on his tongue sent a thrill down my spine. “In my dreams, I’vegot you coming so hard you see heaven. I’ve never met another electroteknik before. It explains why you felt so damn good.”
“Pendejo.”
“Oh, there’s that outlander. Cute. But don’t lie to me now—not after we’ve built so much rapport. You felt it too. You can feel it right now, just like I can.”
He was right. I could feel it. The thrum echoed in my blood, in my very bones. I could feel every circuit, every piece of tech around me, each one creating a tiny electric field. But nothing felt like him.
He reached behind my neck, and I felt a prick as the Flux dampener released. My head swam as a flood of hormones overcompensated for being blocked.
